Upon returning to NYC from New Mexico the god almighty above said let insanity be done upon Brooklyn, in accordance with the prophecy, for Tristan has cometh back. Bah, just kidding, I wish I could take credit for first an earthquake and then a hurricane, but alas while I have the power to get thee drunk I can not, yet, shake the world. Yet it is true, as I sat at the distillery one fine afternoon I took note of what I thought was the familiar feeling of a subway train trundling down a tunnel just under the building, and yet come to think of it there isn’t a train near the distillery… it must be the freight elevator and someone unloading crates onto it, ‘damn trucks,’ I thought to myself. It was the shuddering of the bottles quietly tinkling on the shelves as they shivered against each other that made me look around and rest eyes on our tubs of liquid begin to roll back and forth with visible waves of corn and barley sloshing against their lids, something weird might be happening. Trying to make sense of this nonsense I finally stumbled my way over to a window to set my eyes upon the street lamp looking like a damn metronome, at which point I admitted to myself that yes in spite of being on the east coast I was experiencing my first earthquake, so I made way way to the door frame where I stood watching inexperienced Brooklynites bounce down the hallway laughing at the absurdity of a New York quake. Although it lasted much longer than I would have thought possible, it left as fast as it came, rolling in as large waves to shake up my bourbon and my afternoon. Even though it did leave me a little off balance for a little while the biggest fallout was easily the mass movement of social media outbursts. Following the earthquake it was apparent that more people ran for their phones then for cover, which left me with endless entertainment all day.
The Apocalypse is coming, here’s why:
Following our shake up my father posted on my facebook wall, ‘watch out for the hurricane that’s coming next. haha.’ A jest. A poke at the fact that Brooklyn should be too cool for earthquakes. So I found myself bunkering down one fine night a week later with my friends, 10 gallons of water, 10 gallons of bourbon, some canned food, and three 12 packs of beer watching as our good friend Hurricane Irene thrashed not overly violently against our house. The true fallout from Irene were the 3 days prior to it actually hitting us. With the blitz on stores for canned food and water, as well as Rittenhouse Rye which was wiped form all liquor store shelves, people’s emotion were actually running on high and you could see it in everything. It was a palpable feeling wafting through the streets on the day before it was supposed to hit us, excitement and dread actually hung in the humid air. It sounds dramatic, but walking the neighborhood that morning watching people bustle around in an overly quiet and inward mood, feeling the weight of the oppressive humidity, there was something vaguely electric in the air that made your heart beat faster the longer you lingered out unprotected in the world. I’ve heard it described before but never felt such an eerie energy actually pulse through a community. Much like the unsettling emotions stirring around outside, the opposite was equally as strong upon entering the safety of home. The comfort of seeing the girls lounging idly on the couch, hearing soft weathery music playing through the speakers, and enjoying gentle rain against windows were all amplified by the tangible tension outside, it created such a warm sensation of safety. In the end it turned out to be just a good excuse for NYC to take a weekend off, the best possible result. Although our night filled with friends, cocktails, and Tears for Fears karaoke seemed to resemble any normal night, there was a depth created by the uncertainty of what might happen that seemed to elevate it to an event, luckily this time the hurricane gave to us an awesome night rather than the potential nightmare that it threatened to unveil. What better time is there to open the good bottles of booze and thaw out the emergency stash of Hatch green chile then when you are locked up in a house with your best friends about to face certain doom.
I am now waiting for a dinosaur to knock on my door, as it seems the next logical step in the end of the world.
